


Corrupted

by Marwana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mummy Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marwana/pseuds/Marwana
Summary: A gold bracelet found in Grimmauld Place not long after the death of his godfather changed his life dramatically. Story contains references to the Scorpion King/ The Mummy films.





	Corrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: everything you recognize does not belong to me.  
> Warnings: crackish, no dialogue.

When he had first found the bracelet the very idea of ever becoming a Dark Lord had been preposterous. Hell, even the idea of ever becoming a dark _wizard_ had been beyond weird.  
A Dark Lord, Voldemort, had killed his parents and a dark witch had been responsible for the death of his godfather.  
  
But yet, five years after he had first seen the bracelet, that _was_ what he had become: a Dark Lord. And the best thing was that he had a large army of immortal, indestructible creatures at his beck and call. They were fast, they were strong and they were deadly. They were all _his_.  
  
He had stopped caring about good and evil a long time ago, and all he cared about now was using the power he had to get what _he_ wanted to have.  
  
**oOo**  
  
It had all started during the summer before his sixth year.   
Sirius had died just a couple of weeks before but – even though it was clear to every sane being that he had been grieving – they had forced him to go to the one place that held the most memories of said godfather: Grimmauld Place 12.  
  
At first he had been happy to be away from the Dursleys but that had been _before_ he had found out that he was to stay at Sirius’ place. But the worst thing had been that most of the Order members had also been staying there.  
  
He had been forced to spend the first couple of days of the vacation in the presence of a lot of people, while all he had wanted was to be left alone so he could use the time needed to get over the death of his godfather.

He had exploded spectacularly on the evening of the fourth day after which he had accidently expelled everyone from the house. Because – unknown to him, but known to some of the others – the house had ben willed to him and he, as the owner, had every right to kick out everyone he wanted.  
  
He had used the time alone well. At least, in his opinion he had spent his time well. He had spent some days locked away in Sirius’ old room so he could properly grieve before he had finally decided to explore the house the way he had wanted to do the year before. The letters he received from his friends had stated otherwise.

Mrs Weasley had forbidden them all to enter the areas she hadn’t given free. He had always disliked that, as she had only given them access to a couple of rooms and they had literally been locked away for weeks. He had always hated to be locked in somewhere, even if it was in a place as large as Grimmauld Place.  
  
But then he suddenly had had all the time he could ever want to explore, so explore was what he had done. And he _had_ found some very interesting items.  
  
First were, of course, the large amount of books. He had had nothing with reading but even he had been able to appreciate the knowledge the older, often dark books contained.  
  
The second thing he had found was a set of magical throwing knives. They, like wands, choose the wizard and he had been the lucky one chosen to wield them. Lucky for him, the knives returned to their sheets if he were to lose them. He was far from skilled, and it happened more often than he liked that a knife he had thrown ended up somewhere he could not reach.

It had taken him _weeks_ after he had found them to even hit the large target he had set up and it had taken him _years_ to become good enough to actually hit someone so he could take them out of a fight without killing or wounding them. Sadly enough, he hadn’t been able to use them in his fight against Voldemort as he had not been proficient enough at the time.  
  
The third and last interesting find had been a small, wooden box he had not been able to open. He had wanted to throw it away, but his gut had told him that it could come in handy.  So, seeing how his gut had never been wrong before, he had taken to carrying it around.

He had figured that, worst case scenario, he could always throw it at Voldemort’s head and hope it hit him hard enough to knock him out.  
  
**oOo**  
  
Several months later, during the winter holidays while he had been at Hogwarts, he had finally been able to open the box.

It had been an accident – he had just been toying with the box when he had had accidently placed it too close to the fire – but he had been pleased with the result as it was finally open.   
  
The lock had clicked open and he had carefully lifted the lid. There had been three things inside: a piece of paper, a golden coin and a bracelet in the shape of a scorpion. He had taken the piece of paper out but had been unable to open it.   
He had not been too surprised about that.  
  
The next thing he had taken out had been the bracelet. What had happened after he had touched the bracelet had been both the best and the worst thing that had ever happened. The bracelet had somehow appeared around his wrist, before it clicked shut. He had been shown several ancient Egyptian sites immediately after it had closed and he had stared at them in complete bewilderment.  
  
It had taken almost an hour before he had managed to drag himself away from his attempt to remove the bracelet. It had taken even longer before he had finally managed to deal with the fact that the bracelet showed him certain scenes.

It had not been long after he had finally accepted that he was stuck with the large, golden bracelet that he had accidently touched the coin left in the box.  
  
The moment the tip of his pink finger had touched the golden coin he had been whisked away to a tropical forest somewhere else entirely. It had been warm and damp and it had been littered with massive trees and foliage. He had been able to hear the sound of insects and water and the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet running along the trees.  
He had hated it the moment his feet had touched the ground.  
  
It had not taken him long to discover ruins of the gigantic golden pyramid with its weird empty holder on top. It had taken even less time to cast the dark spell he had discovered in one of the many Black books that would let him float for a short amount of time, as long as his own energy levels did not drop to dangerous lows.  
  
The moment he had reached the entrance of the pyramid the bracelet had come loose and he had been quick to put it inside his pocket.  
  
The pyramid itself had been empty and desolate and its interior had been mostly destroyed. But he had searched his way inside nonetheless, until he had managed to find what he believed to be the very centre of the monument. It was not like he had a choice, as the coin no longer worked and he had no idea where he was located in the vast world.

The room he had found himself in had been just as empty as the rest, and the remains of some great beast could be found sticking out of what appeared to be some kind of tar. He had no idea how long the remains had been there, but the decomposition had started and the stench had been awful.  
  
It had been there that the dark god Anubis – though at the time he had not known who the weird jackal-headed man had been, as Egyptian myths and legend had not been part of his literature – had appeared before him. By lack of any choice on his part, he had made a deal with the being.

The creature’s army would be his in exchange for a favour in the future and his servitude. Servitude in that case had meant that he would reintroduce Anubis’ cult to the modern world.  
  
He had agreed with the terms and he had returned to Hogwarts with the bracelet once again on his wrist and a bad feeling in his gut.  
  
**oOo**  
  
It had been just before his sixth year would have ended, that Voldemort had attacked. It had been the last thing he had ever done.  
  
He had used the Vanishing Closet Draco Malfoy had repaired to appear in Hogwarts, where he had proceeded to murder Dumbledore in his office. The moment he had managed to kill the man, the wards had been under his command and he had locked down the entire school.  
  
Everyone had been forced outside, and it had not taken long before Voldemort had demanded that Harry appeared before him.

While he had chosen to lurk in the shadows initially – to the protest of at least half the student body, as they were firm in their belief that he should save them – he now choose to obey the demand.

Voldemort once again demanded they duel, but he declined. Everyone around him reacted in shock and denial. A duel between the two of them would mean that he could defeat Voldemort without them having to fight. Why would he not fight for them?

And that was the exact reason why he declined. Why would he fight for them when he had an army at his beck and call?

He had called for his army of jackal-headed and jackal-legged minions, and he had set back as they _slaughtered_ his enemies.

Voldemort had been once again killed, and he had saved the day.

**oOo**

He had graduated about a year after his defeat of Voldemort, but instead of becoming an auror he had chosen to focus his time on studying the books in the Black house and to honour his pact with Anubis.

**oOo**

Fast forward to about two years later: the people started to demand for his head. The use of the army of the dead – such a pathetic name, but it suited them well enough – had spooked the people. The fact that he was no longer in the eye of the public did not help.

Aurors had tried to arrest him, but his convenient army had dealt with them easily.

It did not take long before he was declared a Dark Lord.

He could not find it in himself to care.

**oOo**

And now, five years after he had first laid eyes on the bracelet, he _ruled_ the Wizarding World. He had no doubt that, one day, some hero would stand up to him. There was always some hero to stand up to the bad guy, after all.

But in the meantime: Anubis was worshipped, Voldemort was dead, and he _ruled_.


End file.
